


from behind the stained glass I found you

by CookieCuddler



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drama, Infidelity, M/M, Misgendering, Mpreg, Romance, Rough Sex, Royalty AU, as a warning, but some HEAVY shit occurs, i'll update the tags as i go along, it'll be addressed I really REALLY hate when it happens, it's purposeful (and will stop), mentions of - Freeform, yes babey, yes it gets sexy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23252257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieCuddler/pseuds/CookieCuddler
Summary: Baekhyun, a male omega that was whisked into a life of corrupted politics and betrothed to an Alpha of a dying yet distinguished kingdom, is tasked with improving the relations with a neighboring kingdom: the Parks. Chanyeol, the Crown Prince of a forthcoming power, is sent away to complete his military service before he inherits the throne from his father.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in a long time. I mean in a LONG ass time. A lot has happened in my personal life and I'm sure no one cares so I'm just gonna keep it cute: got depressed, saw exo live, got more depressed, got my ass together somewhat (I've been working on this since September), got more depressed again, and now I'm on lockdown. LIFE COMES AT YOU FAST, HUH. I actually retired and wasn't going to publish another fanfic but I feel I need to do something productive so I'm trying to finish my MANY WIPS (my last BAE fic flopping--which was NOT deserved--really fucked with my self-confidence so I had to undergo a journey where I stopped relying on other people's opinions which I failed at so I just quit altogether). This isn't finished I know. I'm going to try to finish it since it's nowhere near as ambitious as Apartment 408 was (something I'll never go back to since, in hindsight, the story is kinda...problematic to me). Anyway, I wrote this because I'm an ABO WHORE and I couldn't find many fics (that I didn't already read) that didn't portray Baekhyun as some fragile flower and Chanyeol as Mr. Macho BIG DADDY man. I wish more people fought against these weird roles placed upon them without Baekhyun self-hating the entire fic so maybe someone will read this and get inspired or maybe y'all will find my personal account that I'm doing a horrible job at hiding and bully me off the internet. Who really knows what happens but if it's the latter I would have deserved it.
> 
> My chanbaek tumblr is @yeolhyunabode if anyone cares
> 
> Flame me in the comments pls (or just ignore this fic altogether it's really up to you).

The water in the bath sloshes as Baekhyun sits with proper posture, the suds from the bath gel exposing his reddened skin to the soft lights of the master bath. He slides to the end of the tub and leans his head back, his assistant cradling his head with her nimble fingers. The smell of his favorite shampoo wafts past him, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

“It’s good, Chungha,” Baekhyun whispers as she massages his scalp.

He relaxes against her slight embrace, partly aware that his exposed shoulders and upper back is dampening her nightdress—a concern that’s hushed by her humming a popular girl group song, one he repeatedly heard during his car rides through the city.

“Did you hear,” Chungha starts quietly as she smoothes over Baekhyun’s hair, his previous black locks hidden beneath a film of shampoo, “The Crown Prince from the Park kingdom will be visiting us?”

Baekhyun hums in reply and folds his knees together, his arms resting over them. He knew about it and felt indifferent towards it. At first he was apprehensive toward the idea as the Park heir would escort him to his various schedules, but after eavesdropping one of his Alpha’s phone call conversations during his infrequent visits to the palace, his trepidation about trusting his safety with a man he never met faded to slight annoyance at the predicament. As a way to further improve relations between the two kingdoms, the Crown Prince will complete his mandatory military requirement, one royalty is exempt from if they so choose, under the guise of serving as a royal guard when in reality he will be his over-glorified personal assistant. In essence, he’s delegated to strengthen the kingdom’s relationships with the surrounding powers while receiving none of the credit. His legacy will continue to be limited to being the youthful, beautiful, and well-mannered _Queen_ that supported his Alpha during his extended absences—ones that are sold to the public as sacrifices he bore to instill peace to the land.

Chungha continues, “He’s handsome, don’t you agree?”

“I’m married,” Baekhyun replies flatly.

“But I’m not,” She jeers, scratching Baekhyun’s scalp.

“He has a girlfriend.”

“How do you know he has a girlfriend?” There’s an incredulous lift to her voice and Baekhyun could feel her head cocking to the side in interest.

“Instagram.”

“You follow him on social media?”

“No, but I stalked him there.”

“So, you saw how pretty he is—”

“His feed could be better, considering…”

“ _Considering_ ….” She teases, “You do have an opinion of him.”

“I’m worried he’s spoiled and immature.”

“You’re the same age and you’re not like that.”

“I wasn’t born into this lifestyle like he was…plus—”

“You’re married,” Chungha finishes for him.

“—I’m married and expected to start a family soon. I can’t make the same impulsive decisions he probably gets away with.”

“So is he. After completing his not so mandatory-mandatory military service here he’s probably going to get married and inherit the throne from his father.” Her hands drop to Baekhyun’s shoulders and sighs, “Must be stressful for him. Make sure you tell him I’m here for him as well—”

“He still has time to play—with _his girlfriend.”_

“I still think he’s attractive—Rinse.”

Baekhyun bows forward as he’s sprayed with a blast of hot water, the sweet scent of the pomegranate shampoo plugging his sinuses and burning his nostrils as it’s rinsed from his hair. He pushes his hair back and wipes the water from his eyes once Chungha clicks the showerhead back to its place against the wall.

“A towel,” Chungha offers, now squatting in front of the tub with a face towel in her hands.

Baekhyun accepts it and dries his face. He blinks, his eyes stinging, as Chungha comes into view. As he thought, the front of her dress is wet.

“Do you need more assistance?” She continues, taking the aforementioned towel.

“No. Thank you.” Baekhyun returns to the edge of the tub, sinking below the water’s surface until his chin is submerged.

“Ah, I’ll leave your night clothes on your bed and,” She pads to the sink opposite to the bathtub, “leave a towel for you here,” she places a large towel on the other edge of the bath.

“Have a good night, Chungha. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Baekhyun mumbles, the throes of sleep upon him.

Chungha nods, “Likewise, Baekhyunnie.” She moves towards the door but stops in the entryway. She turns to face Baekhyun, a soft smile on her lips, her voice quieter, “I don’t think Prince Chanyeol is a bad guy.”

Baekhyun is more conscious of his blush, one he’ll partly credit to the heat of the bathwater, from Chungha reading his mind—again. When it came to the Crown Prince, he’s not too worried about the plan since at worst he has to tolerate him whenever he’s filmed which, unless he’s a total asshole, a quality he didn’t read from his 546 Instagram posts, shouldn’t be too hard. What’s making him nervous about the arrangement is he wants the Crown Prince to like him. Given his position as an Omega and the spouse to the King, he’s not given plenty of opportunities to be around other men, especially those who are his age. He wants to feel young like the twenty-somethings he sees on television and decorating the streets before he’s burdened with a child.

“You’re only saying that because you have a crush on him,” Baekhyun murmurs, his lips pursuing against the surface of the water.

“Maybe, but you’re such a lovable guy—so down to earth too. There’s no way he won’t fall in love with you.”

“He has a girlfriend,” Baekhyun quips, understanding the true meaning of Chungha’s words.

“And I’ll gladly serve him in any capacity, but I’m in love with you,” Chungha’s smile is brighter and her eyes twinkle.

“Everyone can’t be like you though.”

“Exactly, so don’t catch a cold soaking in the bath worrying over things that are not worth your time. You’re special.”

“I know.”

“And not just because you’re a male Omega either.”

“Goodnight, Chungha,” Baekhyun finishes with a smile ghosting on his lips.

* * *

“The Crown Prince from the Park kingdom is here, my _Queen_.” A servant with a face Baekhyun can’t recognize bows to him.

Baekhyun looks up from his plate of sliced oranges, melons, and apples to meet the servant’s gaze once he rights his posture. He forces a smile, face puffy and still dazed by sleep, “Thank you.”

“Would you like to visit him?”

Baekhyun takes his fork from his mouth, its tings deep into the flesh of an apple slice. He checks his current state of dress, a dark blue silk nightgown set, “N-now?”

“After you properly dress, my _Queen_.”

“Oh, yes, of course—tell Chungha to pick out an outfit for me, nothing too formal,” Baekhyun orders slowly.

“Yes, my _Queen_.” The servant bows one final time before exiting the front area of Baekhyun’s suite, his primary living quarters when the King is out of town. 

Baekhyun leans back into the wood dining chair and closes his eyes, them stinging from the effort of keeping them open during the duration of his “breakfast.” In hindsight, it makes sense that Prince Chanyeol would arrive prior to their televised meeting and he’ll get an opportunity to see him before then. But he’s also too exhausted to properly care about exchanging pleasantries with the Crown Prince from performing various interviews and attending meetings of what the arrangement would entail, a proper build-up to said televised meeting, so his kingdom, but particularly the Parks, could look favorable to the public. If anything, he already created a congruous first impression in relation to his social status, one that spoke of how _fond_ he is at the concept of Prince Chanyeol going out of his way to volunteer his abilities just so he could continue to live his comfortable life.

He opens his eyes and turns to his left to gaze out of the ceiling-to-floor length window. The sky is characterized by a plethora of moody grays, the clouds thick with the onslaught of incoming rain. From his seat he can see the other buildings of the palace, its design taking a more traditional approach, home to the other members of the elite such as the royal family—also conveniently absent, albeit as humble as they could be considering the King was an only child and only his father and uncle are still alive. Further off, he can see the slight silhouette of the city surrounding the compound towards the base of the mountain. He picks up his fork to nibble on the apple slice, his head resting in his other palm. The sweet flesh fits to the roof of his mouth as he finds himself drifting, the contrast of the dark wood and the dull skyline warping until he’s startled awake by Chungha calling his name.

“Baekhyun, your clothes are prepared,” She recites formally.

Baekhyun removes the apple slice from his mouth with a subtle smack of his lips and places it on the plate. He stretches, his back arching and shoulders popping in the process, then pillows his head in his arms against the glass dining table. 

He murmurs, his voice thick with sleep, “What’s my schedule for today?”

“Ah, well, Prince Chanyeol is currently settling into his suite a few doors down and would like to meet you, and his parents would like to treat you to lunch, but after that your schedule is free.”

Baekhyun scoffs and digs his head into the crevice of his arms and mutters, “We can’t do dinner?”

“No, actually they wanted to take you to breakfast but we couldn’t wake you up, and they need to return to their palace by five.”

After a pause Baekhyun states, “And what time is it now?”

Chungha retrieves her phone from the back pocket of her black slacks, “It’s…9:47am.”

Baekhyun chuckles lightly to himself, “Well fuck.” He sits up and blinks at Chungha, “What outfit did you pick out for me?”

“A pair of khakis and a fleece pullover.”

“No jeans?” Baekhyun pouts, his blank stare morphing into a grimace. He dreads how wide his hips are going to look in a pair of khakis. 

“We can’t let him know you’re a couch potato just yet, Baekhyun,” Chungha chides with a smile, helping Baekhyun stand.

* * *

Baekhyun stands outside Chanyeol’s suite, Chungha on his right and his only Alpha bodyguard, Changmin, on his left. His hands tighten into fists before rubbing themselves against the front of his khakis. A part of him wanted to get the meeting over with so he could bullshit himself through lunch and reunite with his comforter set for the next five hours, but another portion of him didn’t like the weight that sat in his belly. Despite meeting with political officials and other social elite on a daily basis, often lying on their behalf so they won’t retaliate via big guns on his front lawn, the outcome of a failed meeting between himself and the Crown Prince feels more like a life-or-death situation to him. He found himself languishing over the possibility until he heard the first chime of morning’s arrival through the stuttering melody of chirps outside of his window.

In the off-chance that he and Chanyeol didn’t work out, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do—or what else he had to look forward to.

Even if he could bear a child to term, how would he deal with it? Would his Alpha finally become interested in him again? What would he do with himself as the nannies took care of it? Would he find some sort of substance continuing the facade that he’s _happy_ with his Alpha in order to paint a picture of the perfect family, despite how unconventional they are to the nuclear family? Would the people’s praise for him saving his Alpha’s family line from demise keep him satisfied enough to endure his existence until his last breath? 

Just like Chanyeol, whatever child he manages to have will be stuck in the endless loop of corrupted politics.

Then the unknown, the reality where he couldn’t have his Alpha’s child lurks in his afterthoughts. Truly, what then?

Changmin knocks on the door, pulling Baekhyun from his thoughts, and announces, “ _Queen_ Baekhyun,” he steals a glance towards the aforementioned, bowing in apology and smiling minutely at the use of the title, “requests the presence of the Crown Prince of the Park clan: Chanyeol.”

There’s a loud bang, akin to someone dropping something, coupled with a panicked hush of _ah, fuck, he’s here?_ The door opens with a subtle click, and in the next moment, Baekhyun is met with the _tall_ boyish Alpha he got to know through filtered photographs online, edited b-reel while rewatching his television appearances, and cheap online articles he read between his various interviews and community doings. Chanyeol bows immediately, his shaved head properly coming into view, his scalp considerably paler than the rest of his skin. The Prince’s eccentric ears are more obtuse than normal, one of his many charm points, if the various clickbait online quizzes Baekhyun read at two in the morning had any merit. Despite how elfish it made him look, Chungha is right: he’s incredibly handsome.

Chanyeol rights himself, his stare moving from Changmin to Chungha, then finally onto Baekhyun and announces, “Greetings, I’m the current heir to the Park throne, Chanyeol. I would like to offer my gratitude towards the King, but particularly to the _Queen._ ”

Baekhyun clears his throat at the formality and the base of Chanyeol’s voice. He has heard it before, but it’s an entirely different experience in person. Which, to make the meeting feel more tense, the weight of Chanyeol’s gaze is unnerving in a way he couldn’t understand. Baekhyun has had his share of strange men staring at him, whether it be from a passerby on the street or other important people he had to charm to keep certain “deals” under check, making his skin itch and requesting a bath as soon as he returned home as a result. Although, with Chanyeol, he’s more aware of the creases of his pullover as its sleeves bunch at his elbows and the wrinkles in his khaki’s that were born between putting them on and taking the short trek to Chanyeol’s room. It feels as if Chanyeol is digging through the layers he encased himself with over his brief rule as the King’s spouse. It’s refreshing to see an elite member of society look him in the eye and mean what they say, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Chanyeol steps aside, no longer blocking the view of his suite, one that similar to his in design. Chungha enters the room first, bowing to Chanyeol. Baekhyun follows her, deciding to focus on the subtle swing of her brunette ponytail as she walks when his eyes find Chanyeol’s again. He knew to smile to make it less awkward so Chanyeol doesn’t know he’s counting the minutes until he can leave. For a second, he catches the way Chanyeol’s face relaxes in how his dark eyebrows ease, no longer strong and taut, something the next person probably wouldn’t bother nor know to look for.

He stands in the living area. The layout in terms of the kitchen, the dining room, and the living room is in the same space. However, unlike his suite, Chanyeol’s is smaller and lacks the large window lining the wall adjacent to the dining room and the kitchen. Instead, there’s one next to the living room furniture, allowing natural light into the domain. Baekhyun watches as the first droplets of rain hit the window, the skyline gloomier with its absence of color.

Baekhyun puts his hands in his pockets as his eyes bounce from the various totes of items, the cupboards in the kitchen that are ajar, revealing crisp white dining ware, to the guitar case leaning against the farthest wall, most likely Chanyeol’s bedroom.

“I’m Chungha, Baekhyun’s primary assistant.”

Baekhyun turns around in time to see Chungha right herself from bowing. She’s currently standing in front of Chanyeol next to the dining room table.

She continues, “In total, Baekhyun has four assistants,” she holds four fingers up, “that you will be introduced to later, but in most matters concerning him you can speak to me.” She turns to Changmin who’s standing in front of the large window, his hands in the pockets of his dark grey slacks. His eyes are glazed over and a frown mars his face. Chungha hurriedly whispers, “Changmin.” 

The aforementioned man turns towards Chungha then Chanyeol with a hum, eyes wide in surprise. He crosses the room, bows, and shakes Chanyeol’s hand while chuckling to himself in embarrassment, “ah—oh, so I’m Changmin, one of Baekhyun’s bodyguards.” He rights himself, and after a beat he adds, “I typically escort him, but there’s a team of us as well.”

Chanyeol nods, smiling minutely, a contrast to the cartoonish grins he wears during variety appearances. His eyes are large and his face is small, making him appear childish despite being 21 years old and almost two meters tall.

Suddenly, Chungha and Changmin are staring at Baekhyun, the former gesturing to Chanyeol with the raise of her eyebrows and shoulders.

Baekhyun stares at the threesome, confused until he realized he never properly introduced himself (despite it not really being all that necessary). He stands with proper posture, his arms now at his sides, and turns to face Chanyeol bodily, “I’m—”

“—I’ve been waiting to meet you, Baekhyun.” Chanyeol bows and quickly rights himself, the tips of his ears tinged red. Despite the tenor of his voice, it’s soft albeit partially strained. 

“Ah—” Baekhyun starts.

“I wanted to thank you in person for agreeing to this. You’re helping me with little to-no-gain for yourself,” Chanyeol’s voice is quieter, suddenly shy. It’s something Baekhyun has seen on his variety appearances, but like most things, figured it was scripted to make him seem less intimidating. However, it seems the Chanyeol most people know him as—the charismatic, pinnacle of masculinity, ideal-boyfriend type—is more contrived than their agreement.

“Um, no problem,” Baekhyun replies, unsure if he could let his guard down around Chanyeol. He chuckles, cocking his head to the side in presumed thought, eager to keep the conversation light, “Hmm, I figured it could be fun. Sometimes Changmin can be a bit stale.” His attention flickers to the Alpha who’s staring out the window, his eyes focused on the horizon, particularly the line of trees tracing the outskirts of their realm. 

Unlike the dignitaries Baekhyun is used to associating with, their eyes seedy and their mouths sharper than any blade in the kitchen, Chanyeol feels like an open book, which is a bit debilitating. As much as he detested the meetings his Alpha dumped him with, he knew what to expect and how he should carry himself.

Chanyeol’s naivety and transparentness makes Baekhyun want to trust him, but his desire to affiliate with the Crown Prince on an informal level is frightening, now stronger than ever that the latter proved to break the stereotypes characteristic to the other entitled male heirs he had the displeasure of meeting. There’s something tangible between them as Chanyeol watches him, his eyes aboveboard, before turning his gaze towards Chungha when she asks about his parents’ whereabouts.

Chanyeol is a glass of water: crisp, refreshing, and _necessary_. And he’s reminding Baekhyun that he’s dehydrated, but with that comes a need, a pull of some type of platonic intimacy—which yes, he’s deprived of. And again, something he wants to fix; however, there’s something more.

It’s finite and simultaneously suffocating—his inner instincts are speaking to him, whispering too low to hear it properly and its vibrations too soft to decipher. It’s buried and as he attempts to dig, more sand fills the hole, getting him nowhere.

“They went home. You can feel the storm, right?” Chanyeol turns to the window, his eyes tracing the skyline.

“Yeah,” Chungha affirms, “it didn’t seem to be that bad earlier though.” She turns to Changmin who nods in agreement, distant.

Chanyeol’s eyes are wide and now hide behind a film. He turns towards Baekhyun, now apologetic, “They wanted to meet you and express their gratitude in person, but my father has to meet with—”

“It’s okay. There’s always next time,” Baekhyun affirms.

* * *

The rest of the day proceeded without a major event. Thankfully, Chungha suggested they leave shortly after the introductions but not before offering to help Chanyeol unpack. Which, to Baekhyun’s surprise, he declined.

Baekhyun is still in bed, sleep heavy in his limbs. From the far window, lining the side of his bedroom similar to the design in the kitchen, the sky is a compile of reds and purples. He slept through most of the day and didn’t give a damn about it. With reluctancy, he sits up, reminded just how heavy his prized comforter set is, and stretches. He blinks, eyes dry, and stares out of the window in a haze. He’s fixated on the line of trees further off in the horizon, a heavily wooded area he has explored only a handful of times—incidences that only occurred because he begged Changmin to sneak him out so he could transform to rid of the itch in his muscles.

The werewolf transformation has become obsolete in modern times due to the advance of technology and the rise of industrialization. It’s only used for sporting events, activities that have been deemed inappropriate for him as a member of royalty as it goes against his image. 

Which, even if he was able to convince Changmin to let him out to roll around in the dirt and piss on a tree, he’s too close to his next heat—his chances of getting attacked or abducted by a rogue tribe is amplified tenfold. Despite his difficulty to bear, he’s still prized as he is a product of a mutation and a reminder of a lost time where the survival of one’s pack didn’t have political ties: he’s rare. Regardless of how he feels about it, he can’t put the success of his Alpha’s— _his_ tribe’s future because he’s feeling stir crazy. The least Baekhyun could do is try and this is the only thing that binds the two of them together.

Baekhyun slumps into his mattress, a frown gracing his face at that thought.

He’s been over this—told himself he was over it countless times. Chungha and his other assistants told him that their current state of whatever they are isn’t his fault. But even if his Alpha took back those words about how the estate is in a state of distress because of his inability to carry, their relationship is a dead end. When he was young and was plucked from his village, he thought it’ll work out like in those Cinderella-esqse videos his schoolmates often talked about. They continuously bore into his mind that they would be whisked away and marry somebody rich where they didn’t have to plant rice day in and day out. He ignored them, annoyed that was the only thing they were capable of talking about and wished that day came sooner rather than later—only for it to happen to him.

At first, he wasn’t too bothered by being branded as an Omega. He didn’t know what that was and the rest of his friends treated him the same. He played in the dirt, got scratched up, transformed and play fought with the other children his age as if they were all in the same. However, because of what he is, he’s in a palace, surrounded by riches he didn’t know was possible—only to be continuously shamed for it. Now his masculinity is consistently questioned, whether it be jilted interviewers asking him questions about how he “works” or reading his Instagram comments with people referring to him as a fraud—an incomplete being that didn’t know how to be one or the other.

The mating scar on his neck throbs slightly, and Baekhyun’s lips flatten into a line. He resists the urge to touch it. Despite his Alpha never really caring about the effect their distance has on their relationship and his _activities_ have on Baekhyun, Baekhyun didn’t want to indirectly give him the satisfaction that he’s bothered. He hasn’t been concerned about how their relationship deteriorated for almost two years. He’s been hurt, he’s been angry, and he’s been confused: why purposely seek a male omega, a being with questionable fertility abilities, to have a family with?

He has accepted his position as a pretty paperweight that’s supposedly going to grant the kingdom with good luck. Allegedly, if what his Alpha said in anger is true, a prophet foretold that a child born from a male omega will lead to prosperity in his current kingdom. Considering how thin, despite how great in notoriety, the kingdom is, it’s idiotic to bet the fate of the kingdom based off what one soothsayer said, no matter how noble there are. They’re in a position where he can’t afford to be wrong.

For awhile, Baekhyun rationalized his husband’s cheating as a poly to have at least a bastard heir, but it’ll make more sense to strengthen what little mating bond they have left versus making the situation considerably more difficult. 

Baekhyun’s mating scar throbs more violently, an ache left in its place after the initial strike of pain. With a sigh, his feet find his slippers at the edge of his bed. He stands and moves from his bedroom to the kitchen to ice his neck as traditional painkillers were ineffective. He’s not sure how much longer he can participate in the failure he calls his marriage or how much longer he has until his Alpha accepts that he’s probably barren.

He steps into the common room of his living quarters, the large window by the dining table blessing the space with natural light. It’s beautiful.

At the next surge of pain, Baekhyun pads to the refrigerator and opens the freezer portion, the chill bedding itself in his fingertips and face. He takes one of the microwave burritos Chungha stores in there for the nights she doesn’t have time to have dinner and sets it on the curve of his neck, a hiss sneaking pass his lips.

“I need to have another box prepared for her,” Baekhyun whispers to himself as he returns to his bedroom. 

All he can do is continue to perform what is expected of him, that’s all he had left.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chanyeol tries to acclimate to his new position as Baekhyun's bodyguard while trying to understand Baekhyun and his current situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, no time no see (idk its 4am). I really wanted this to be perfect but since this has been 85% done for LITERAL months, I figured it'll never be that so I just threw the porn I needed to finish it and called it day. There's supposed to be two porn scenes but this is LONG enough. I'll add it to the second juicy part (the part I actually want to write). Also, I attempted slow burn but that's really hard and this is a fanfic. I really don't care anymore lmfao. If you read this and are like ??? I know but it's too hard and as I said, I just don't CARE anymore.
> 
> Also, do you like long chapters are shorter chapters? If y'all like shorter chapters I'm gonna have to cut this one up somehow idk. Also, I don't write long-form...at all. The only time I did was for my BAE fics and those were only 20k. This update alone is like 14k which is actually insane. The most I've written for a chapter was 8k (which also took me several months but I also don't work for those several months. I usually write most of it i one sitting then yeet it for like four months).
> 
> Also, there's only going to be two parts (I guess three if you count the prologue). The second part is where everything falls apart so hopefully since I love emotional violence, it won't take me as long. This was so hard for me to write because I just didn't care. "Where is the angst??? the porn???" that was me for 11k words. Also, the OoO are time skips. Also Also??? Characterization? also gave up on that. REally this fic is a MESS. Same old Same old soft Chanyeol and Dom Baekhyun with self-destructive tendencies.

Chanyeol stands outside of Baekhyun’s suite, laptop in hand wearing a pair of black sweats, a white logo hoodie, and black slides he uses as slippers.

The idea of visiting Baekhyun appeared on a whim. After channel surfing through the surplus of channels, making failed attempts to connect with his friends and girlfriend, and staring at his walls lost with thoughts he couldn’t properly articulate, the idea of meeting with Baekhyun, in the hopes of forming a bond with the smaller man, came to him.

It only has been two weeks since he began his “military service” and it has proved to be insufferable as the position mostly consists of sitting in his suite alone. His parents described the arrangement as an opportunity to network and gain experience with managing a kingdom. In reality, it’s an unwanted vacation from his Crown Prince duties where he “escorts” Baekhyun when the event is televised which, so far, there has only been one such occasion: the press conference he and Baekhyun spoke at describing how thrilled they were about the arrangement—all scripted. However, he can look forward to one of Baekhyun’s schedules the following morning, a variety program he appears on every few weeks to create a friendly image for his kingdom, which, if his was anything like the Parks is only done so the people in their district don’t make a fuss when the tax rate increases.

Chanyeol takes a deep breath and stands straighter. He knocks on the door, the sound of his knuckles connecting with the wood silencing the qualms he had of appearing too strident in front of Baekhyun. While their social statuses are of the highest degree, Baekhyun still outranks him: there’s a level of conduct he must follow when regarding the current head of a kingdom, but Baekhyun is all he has and sitting around in his suite isn’t going to improve their relationship. The Beta servants and maids are laconic, often cutting whatever attempts of a conversation he makes off—other than Chungha who he doesn’t see frequently. The bodyguards are the same, but unlike the maids are intimidating. Despite the majority of them also being Betas, sans Changmin and a couple others that serve the other members of the family, are finely in tune to their animalistic side. They can _read_ him and that alone makes it difficult to talk to them on a personal level.

However, he’s apprehensive about getting too close to Baekhyun as there’s more to the male Omega that Chanyeol couldn’t understand. He noticed it the first day they met. While Baekhyun’s visit to his suite was brief, he couldn’t help but be aware of where he was and how he was fairing. He noticed the wrinkles in his khakis, the folds of his pullover, and the loose strands of his stubborn brunette hair. It also made him more self-aware of how he presented himself: the stubble above his lip since he didn’t have time to shave and his casual attire as he opted for a pair of athletic pants and an old ratty t-shirt from his high school years.

No matter how hard he tried to focus on Chungha or listen to what Changmin had to say, his eyes always found Baekhyun. It was unnerving as he doesn’t know where this fascination is stemming from. After sending them off, the closest emotion he could use to describe it was possession. Even now, the idea of expressing ownership of Baekhyun, a stranger, frightened him. Worse off, the more he stayed away, the more restless his wolfish side became. He doesn’t find himself that attentive or concerned with Sooyoung when they’re in the same room.

Baekhyun awakened _something,_ albeit faint, within Chanyeol. He presses his lips into a thin line as that pull increases, his heart fluttering when he hears footsteps at the door. It’s annoying; this _thing_ he could barely describe is deeply buried in the recesses of his being, poking the hornet’s nest he refers to his wolfish instincts with soft presses of a forefinger.

After a pregnant pause, the door opens and Chungha is standing before him in a white night dress, the front darker than the rest, probably damp from water spilling on it.

She blinks, her eyes wide in curiosity and her lips pursed confusion, then a smile spreads on her face as a lightbulb flickers on behind her eyes, “Chanyeol, I’m shocked to see you here.”

“Is it too late?” Chanyeol clutches his laptop tighter, suddenly wishing he didn’t bring it with him.

“No, of course not. Are you here to see Baekhyun?” Her smile brightens but fails to hide her exhaustion as the bags and dark circles under her eyes are prominent.

“Yes,” Chanyeol replies softly, shy and chagrined at the realization of how needy and potentially clingy he’s appearing. Baekhyun and Baekhyun’s servants and bodyguards don’t owe him anything but care in regard to daily upkeep of his suite and protection whenever he leaves the palace as per the arrangement. It said nothing of entertaining his weaker moments where he found himself lonely or unsure of himself. As an upcoming power, he’s not portraying himself as a resilient and independent Crown Prince by _needing_ someone near him albeit if that someone created a craving within him that only he could fill. It’s a character flaw his father chastised him about as _he wouldn’t last a week as king_ with that type of mentality.

“Let me call him over—Baekhyun!” Chungha looks over her shoulder.

There’s a soft mutter and Chanyeol’s face warms.

“Chanyeollie is here!” Chungha opens the door wider and to her right is Baekhyun.

Unlike his mix-match lounge / pajamas ensemble, Baekhyun wears a dark red silk nightgown set with white pinstripes. His face is swollen in probable fatigue, making him appear puppy-like, and his hair is damp, the strands of his bangs sticking to his forehead and the sides of his face. He holds a cream ceramic mug of what smells like green tea. Baekhyun himself carries the scent of pomegranates and strawberries. Like their previous meeting, his eyes are locked onto Baekhyun’s boyish frame, lingering on his broad shoulders and long neck.

“Chanyeol?” Baekhyun’s voice is deep with sleep, “Why are you here?” Baekhyun’s eyes shine in interest, his default pout morphing into frown, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’ve been secluded in my suite, so—” Chanyeol breaks his gaze from Baekhyun and watches Chungha for her reaction. She’s bubbly and may present herself as airheaded, but she’s sharp. She self-declared to know Baekhyun better than he knows himself. If she can spot cracks within Baekhyun, what says she can’t notice how sweaty his hands have become holding his laptop or how his eyes find Baekhyun’s?

“So, you came to visit our Baekhyunnie?”

Chanyeol grunts in affirmance. His attention flickers back to Baekhyun and the latter’s face is softer but wears an expression he has never seen before. It’s interrupted by a smile.

“Come in.”

'

* * *

Chanyeol sits on the dark blue couch, his laptop on the chestnut and glass plated coffee table in front of him. Chungha left shortly after and Baekhyun is in the kitchen, situated behind the living room area of the open floor plan, preparing snacks. The rumble of chips filling a bowl interrupts the hum of the television showing a replay of a variety show. He presses his knees together and rests his palms on them. Now that he’s in the situation, he’s not sure what to do. His first instinct is to lie as he does in interviews: charm Baekhyun into liking him as a fake relationship is better than nothing at all, but another side of him craves honesty. He isn’t sure what to say as he has never wanted to be friends with someone; it always happened naturally.

Baekhyun returns to the living room portion of his suite and sets the bowl of chips on the coffee table, “I’m not much of a cook so this is all I can offer.” He smiles, one that doesn’t reach his eyes, and sits next to Chanyeol with an abundant gap between them.

Chanyeol comments to himself, _He’s feeling awkward too._

“This is fine. I can only cook a little bit. As a child, I liked to hang around the kitchen with the help.”

“Oh, really?” Baekhyun sits up in slight interest.

Chanyeol reclines into the couch and stares at the large television screen hanging on the far wall, “I could only see my parents during mealtimes usually, so I liked to help out in the kitchen as much as I could—but I was shooed away and could only watch. I picked up a few things.”

“Ah.”

Chanyeol steals a glance in Baekhyun’s direction and the latter appears troubled, his eyes are lowered and there’s a grimace on his face.

“I…can make noodles of course. I can also cook meat and make a few sides too.” Chanyeol’s face warms at the atmosphere when it falls silent. Did he hit a nerve? Was Baekhyun only entertaining him because he’s a Crown Prince? Chanyeol shifts his attention away from the television and to Baekhyun. Baekhyun has a pained look on his face before it relaxes. His hands twitch and he places them between his legs.

“I can’t even boil water correctly,” Baekhyun turns to him and their eyes meet. He smiles at him again, another that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Not even water?”

“It takes too long or I end up with less than I expected,” His tone is light and Chanyeol catches his canines poking from under his top lip.

“You couldn’t even make ramen after school?” Chanyeol asks incredulously. He wanted to add _Before the help prepared dinner,_ but he remembers Baekhyun came out of nowhere. He wasn’t born in a royal family and from what he saw on the dramas Sooyoung liked to watch, normal people did it themselves.

“My mom always made it for me, or I ate it crunchy.” There’s a soft smile on Baekhyun’s face as he supports his elbows on his knees. He continues, albeit quieter, “She never understood why it was so hard for me. She’d whack me on the head with a wooden spoon,” He imitates the action.

Chanyeol’s lips flatten into a line and watches as Baekhyun’s smile morphs into indifference. He muses _Is that what having a mother feels like?_

“My mom…” Chanyeol starts slowly, unsure if he should lie or even bring up his parents altogether. He didn’t like talking about his them as his opinions could be disastrous to their status, but he knew if he was going to bond with Baekhyun he has to show vulnerability to some degree, and he wants to trust Baekhyun. He continues while staring at his hands, pulling on his fingers, “she always reprimanded me because of my interest in cooking. She told me it was an unnecessary skill and I should focus on something else. ‘ _You have people to do that for you so you can focus on what other people cannot.’_ ” Chanyeol slouches against the cushions, “It took me forever to understand what she meant.” He raises his arms above his head, stretching, focus now on the television in front of him, “She was right though.” He continues, his tone soft, “Being a Crown Prince is a lot harder than dicing tomatoes.” There’s a lift to his voice with the delivery of the joke. Being a Crown Prince was infinitely harder not in skill but the emotional side of it. As a child, he envied the cooks who got to peel potatoes day in and day out, laughing with their colleagues before returning home to their families. He wished he had a family to go home to at the end of the day or at least one that cared about his tears.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. I couldn’t imagine not having the support of my parents.” Baekhyun lips flatten into a line. “But I guess it’s a little different for me. I wasn’t raised with this type of lifestyle in mind.” Baekhyun’s hands tighten into fists, “It’s kind of shameful, huh?” He utters quietly, his eyes resting on the bowl on the coffee table, his gaze somewhere Chanyeol couldn’t reach.

Chanyeol watches Baekhyun frown, his fists loosening, and holds onto the end of his sentence. There’s more he’s not saying, but he isn’t sure if he should pursue it.

“Technically, you still have someone to do it for you. No point in feeling shame in that—"

“No…it’s just,” Baekhyun opens and closes his mouth, his head cocked to the side. His eyes narrow and flicker back and forth in thought almost as if he was having an internal debate with himself. Chanyeol’s eyes land on the crescent shaped mating scar on his neck. It’s red and swollen.

“Does that hurt?” The question falls from Chanyeol’s lips before he could gather his wits.

Baekhyun’s eyes widen in surprise and a blush climbs down his neck, almost scandalized by the question, and Chanyeol looks away as his attempt to break the ice between them only left things awkward and weird.

“I-I mean, getting a bite—a mating bite. Does it hurt? I’ll have to do it to someone eventually.”

“To your girlfriend?” Chanyeol turns to face Baekhyun and Baekhyun sputters, “Maybe—if you’re thinking about it.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I don’t remember much about it. It was sore after—she’ll be okay.” Baekhyun sits with proper posture, his cheeks red, and avoids eye contact, opting to focus on the floor lamp in the corner of the room.

“How old were you when you got it?” Chanyeol didn’t follow the wedding after the initial break that the King of the Chae district was going to marry a male omega, an oddity that is only seen once every fifty or so years. He remembers being 16 at the time, but there’s no way the King thrusted that kind of responsibility onto Baekhyun that young. His girlfriend is only twenty and he couldn’t imagine doing something like that to her yet. He didn’t know too much about the bond a mating bite created, but what he heard from other people, it’s intense, especially if the relationship isn’t healthy.

“16.” Baekhyun replies flatly, his skin returning to its normal hue.

Chanyeol blinks in shock, his eyes wide. He repeats skeptically, “16?”

Baekhyun opens then closes his mouth, a look of defeat washing over his features, “I…I don’t know if I should talk ill of my husband, but it was right before I turned 17, sometime after the televised wedding.”

“You’re allowed to complain about him,” Chanyeol treads carefully. He understood where Baekhyun was coming from as he’s as good as a stranger, but with the knowledge he was _that_ young adds kindle to the conflagration he regards the growing possessive and overprotective peculiarity his wolf side adopted towards Baekhyun. He wanted to prod more, to understand Baekhyun as these are questions he dodges whenever he’s asked about the nature of his marriage; however, it’s not his business and never will be.

“I know, but you might have a good impression of him. I don’t want to be responsible for changing that.”

“You know…” Chanyeol’s body relaxes and his eyes soften, “If you ever want to tell someone something, you can tell me. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“And I’m good at having them.”

“It shouldn’t be a skill you’re good at.”

Baekhyun looks at his lap and his fists tighten again then release. “Sometimes you have to make do with the hand you are dealt.”

Chanyeol frowns at that. Somewhere in their previous conversation, he earned Baekhyun trust, but now he has lost it.

“I resent my father.”

Baekhyun’s eyes widen in surprise at Chanyeol’s sudden outburst. He opens his mouth to speak but Chanyeol cuts him off.

“He’s emotionless and cruel just like my bitch mother.”

Chanyeol’s face is warm and red as his blush falls below his neck, hiding beneath the hood of his hoodie. His throat is tight as his brain demands he shuts his mouth. Everything he has said is true. He dislikes his parents as they were nothing more than an egg and sperm donor in relation to his upbringing. What he’s saying is dangerous as it could ruin the image his family sacrificed so much to have, but if he was going to get Baekhyun to trust him he had to throw some dirt on his own shirt.

He continues, “They always cared about their people loving them more than their only son.”

“Chanyeol, why are you telling me this?”

“So, you know I’m serious.”

Baekhyun falls silent and looks away, his eyes softer. He begins slowly, “Now it’s only fair that I say something.”

“N-not necessarily.” Chanyeol places his hands between his legs, sheepish. His intention wasn’t to guilt trip Baekhyun into talking. “Hey, maybe this was m—”

“It hurts.” Baekhyun whispers, still looking away. He touches the red mating scar with two fingers, and he winces, a hiss escaping past his lips.

“What hurts?” Chanyeol questions just as quietly.

Baekhyun’s gaze flickers to meet Chanyeol’s, “The mating scar. It hurts. It’s been hurting for the past ten minutes.”

“Does that happen a lot?” Chanyeol sits with proper posture, lips parted.

“It’s not supposed to, but for me it does.”

Chanyeol opens his mouth to reply _What do you mean_ but Baekhyun cuts him off.

“—Treat your mate right.” The hand that’s not on his neck tightens into a fist and he squints his eyes shut before his body relaxes with an exhale.

“Do you know why this is happening?”

“My husband…he’s a dirty bastard.” Baekhyun stands and retreats to the kitchen.

Chanyeol turns in his seat and his eyes follows Baekhyun’s retreating form. The latter goes into the freezer and takes out what looks to be a breakfast burrito and places it on his neck. He winces then his face eases, his body leaning against the refrigerator.

Chanyeol is shocked, but at the same time he couldn’t be surprised. From an outside perspective, they appeared happy. Baekhyun agreed to his husband’s absence as it was important that he personally meet with the other rulers in different lands to create peace on the behalf of their territory and the other kingdoms that reside upon it, such as his own. However, he knows how these types of people are. If his husband was anything like his father, he couldn’t help but agree.

“I suppose you gave me a reason why you hate your parents, so to make it fair,” Baekhyun makes eye contact with Chanyeol, his eyes cold and his expression stern. It silently tells him not to repeat what he’s about to say. Baekhyun squeezes the make-shift icepack, “This hurts whenever our mating bond is weakened. He has a habit of keeping other people besides me company. A serial cheater some might say.”

Chanyeol’s face falls in realization. “Why—”

“It’s obvious, right? Or at least I think it is.” Baekhyun wears a sad expression, a soft smile, one that reaches his eyes, tugging at his lips. He looks away, frowning.

Chanyeol didn’t know much of Baekhyun other than he was the cute male omega that bravely headed his kingdom while his Alpha was away. He was a breath of fresh air on television since he grew up a commoner, a farmer. He remembers Baekhyun being a popular topic and was often featured on television in his newlywed years, but during this time he was bombarded with his own schedules and life as a spoiled heir: he didn’t give a fuck. Just from the process of elimination, if they created the mating bond five years prior, Baekhyun should have had at least two litters by now.

“You’re barren,” Chanyeol whispers to himself.

“It’s sick,” Baekhyun retorts quietly, still not returning Chanyeol’s gaze. He takes the breakfast burrito off his neck and squeezes the packaging in his hands. The scar is still red.

“Baekhyun—”

There’s a knock at the door, Baekhyun jumping as a result. Chanyeol tears his gaze away from Baekhyun to the direction of the front door.

“Who could be requesting my presence at this hour?” Baekhyun grumbles to himself. He throws the breakfast burrito on the counter, the packaging making a smacking noise as it hits the marble. He slides past Chanyeol, his slippers scraping against the floor.

From Chanyeol’s position, he couldn’t see who was at the door, but he can see Baekhyun’s frame.

“Yes?” Baekhyun’s voice is tinged with annoyance.

“My _Queen_ , I have a message from the King—” It sounded like a male, probably a servant.

Baekhyun hushes the man and the front door clicks shut. Chanyeol leans forward, without leaving his seat in the fear of getting caught, and strains his ears. He can hear light murmurs, but he couldn’t make out what was being said. In defeat, Chanyeol leans against the couch cushions and looks at the television screen. Ironically enough, it’s a talk show Baekhyun appeared on. There’s a V shaped table in the center of the room with Baekhyun towards the end of the right side. The supposed regulars sat on the left and the special guests on the right. Next to Baekhyun was Sehun, Crown Prince of the Oh Kingdom. He’s pretty close to Sehun, but he never knew he met Baekhyun before he did.

Baekhyun is clean cut, as always, a stark difference to the one he saw in the kitchen only a few moments prior. His fringe is down, making him appear even more boyish and youthful. He wears a sweater with a button up collared shirt underneath. He looks like a church boy. Sehun is in similar attire except of the sweater he wears a blazer. Unlike Baekhyun, Chanyeol knew Sehun was wild and seeing him so put together was almost comedic. Watching Baekhyun laugh and joke with the other cast members, appearing _carefree,_ is jarring. Before witnessing this side of him, Chanyeol might have laughed along to his jokes too and continued to put him on a pedestal for making a hellish situation into something enjoyable—inflicting blame on himself for being unable to do the same thing. Baekhyun is still amazing, his acting skills incredible, but he finds a newfound comfort in him and within himself. Even the most resilient individuals have something they’re hiding.

“Sorry.” Baekhyun’s voice pulls Chanyeol out of his own thoughts.

Chanyeol meets Baekhyun’s gaze by the front door. The smaller man stands in the middle of the room by the archway of the entrance.

“Is everything okay?”

“Of course not, but we’re even.”

Chanyeol opens his mouth and Baekhyun interrupts him, his hand on his hips, “Don’t start saying random yet damning things about your life either.”

Chanyeol closes his mouth, caught.

Baekhyun continues, “I won’t tell anyone what you told me, and I assume you know not to tell anyone what I said to you.”

“Of course. But I did want to ask you one more question.”

“Depends.” Baekhyun moves back to the living room portion of his suite. He walks in front of the television; he sees himself on the screen and scoffs in disgust. He sits next to Chanyeol, the gap from before smaller than it was previously.

“Why do you let people call you “ _Queen_.”

Baekhyun schools his face with indifference, but his eyes widen—a deer caught in headlights. As quick as the expression appeared on his face, it’s gone.

“What do you mean?” Baekhyun treads carefully. He crosses his legs, his foot bouncing.

Chanyeol flickers his gaze back to the television screen. It’s currently on a close up of one of the show’s regulars. “Whenever someone refers to you as that, you look irritated. You squint your eyes and frown.”

Baekhyun scowls. “You’re imagining things—”

“I’m not.” Chanyeol states firmly.

After a brief silence, Baekhyun proposes, “If… _if_ I tell you why, you have to tell me something important—like your mom isn’t your real mom or your dad is some homicidal manic.”

“My father actually is a homicidal manic. He sprays poison by drone over the impoverished so the poor stay poor.”

Baekhyun gapes at that, “This is supposed to be hard.”

“Why do you let people call you _Queen_.”

Baekhyun narrows his eyes, “I don’t have control over it.”

“Why don’t you correct them?”

Baekhyun stretches his legs under the coffee table, “I used to, but they never listen. I gave up trying.”

“Have you told your—”

“Of course, he was the first person I told.” Baekhyun’s eyes soften and he watches himself on the television screen, “But as always, he didn’t listen.”

A stillness falls between them. The Baekhyun on the screen makes some joke that everyone laughs at, including Sehun. Chanyeol is surprised he never heard Sehun mention him because he looks smitten for the older man sitting to his left.

“Why did you bring a laptop?” Baekhyun questions quietly, his eyes still fixated on the screen.

Chanyeol tears his gaze away from Baekhyun, the harsh lighting of the television screen bouncing off his cheeks, forehead, and chin, to his laptop on the coffee table, forgotten.

“Ah…I wanted to show you some of the music I made.”

Baekhyun turns his head towards Chanyeol and ponders calmly, “You make music…so that guitar…”

Chanyeol opens the lid of his laptop and places it on his lap, “It calms me down.”

“What type of music do you make?” Baekhyun stares at the laptop in interest.

“Love songs.”  
  


“For your girlfriend?” Baekhyun questions quietly.

“Yeah.” Chanyeol nods and types in his log in information, the keys clacking beneath his fingers.

“It must be nice.”

“What is?” Chanyeol opens his finder app by tapping the trackpad of his laptop.

“Loving someone.”

Chanyeol flickers his attention to Baekhyun at his reply, and Baekhyun rests his chin on has palm, his palm sitting on his bent knee. His gaze is distant and there’s a frown on his face. In an instant, they’re making eye contact and Baekhyun smiles sheepishly, his canines present.

“I wanna hear your music, Chanyeol.”

* * *

Chanyeol’s eyes sting and he swallows a yawn. He and Baekhyun talked for most of the night, engaging in more lighthearted topics such as Baekhyun being the class clown in middle school and voted most likely to succeed and Chanyeol having a fan club of his own in high school and being student council president. He stands behind the cameras with the production crew in a black suit with a black collared shirt underneath, his arms crossed behind him. Baekhyun is on set talking to the director in a cream sweater and a pair of dark jeans, and Changmin is by the entrance of the room in similar attire of his own, examining Baekhyun and the director and periodically turning his head to see what’s happening in the hallway.

He watches as Baekhyun nods to whatever the director had to say, the ills he told him the day before vanishing as if last night never happened.

However, since their talk last night, that pull that left him wanting to be around Baekhyun amplified. His breath shortens whenever he’s away from Baekhyun and there’s a restlessness in his limbs, a spring that has been pulled back and shakes from the effort not to release itself. The short period when they broke to go to bed to only get up early in the morning to travel to the studio was hell. His wolf is scratching against his resolve to come out, its nails screeching against the steel Chanyeol encased himself with, subtle scratches appearing on the metal. Now, to do what, Chanyeol isn’t sure and he doesn’t want to know. He’s not connected to his wolf side as he was raised to ignore it since its purpose was obsolete for him given his status in society. Until now, it wasn’t much of a problem. As long as he transformed every once in a while, it was fine. Currently, that’s no longer the case. He’s fixated on Baekhyun and because of their talk, on the injustices that are happening to him, this has amplified. The fact Baekhyun has to withstand his husband’s cheating leaves an inch in Chanyeol’s fingertips. He wants to help. It isn’t any of his business and he doubts he could make an actual change, but he can’t sit still and watch this continue the way things are.

“ _Queen_!” A man that is probably the producer holding a stack of bound paper runs up to Baekhyun and the director, their heads turning in the direction of the call. As always, Baekhyun’s eyes squint and a frown tugs at his lips.

“It’s Baekhyun.”

The producer stops in his tracks halfway to Baekhyun and the director to look at Chanyeol. The heavy lights reflect from his circle lens glasses, hiding his eyes. Baekhyun stares openly at Chanyeol, mouth agape.

Chanyeol repeats, “He prefers…Baekhyun.” He tries his best to maintain a monotone tenor—as per Changmin—he needed to appear as objective yet pro-Baekhyun as possible. Despite his role being purely cosmetic, he needed to properly act the part.

The director and the producer turn to Baekhyun, and Baekhyun nods slowly in agreement, “I like Baekhyun more.”

“Oh, I didn’t know. Sorry, Baekhyun. I ran over because there was a change to the script…” The producer bows in apology. 

Chanyeol exhales, closing his eyes. When he opens them, he catches Baekhyun looking away, now focusing on the producer and nodding along to what he had to say, then turning to the director to listen to her suggestions. Chanyeol looks back at Changmin to catch the fellow Alpha staring at him before resuming his position of watching the hallway traffic.

* * *

“Chanyeol.” Changmin’s voice is flat and stern, lacking the warmer quality it had during their previous conversations.

Chanyeol turns around to face him. The duo is in the hallway of the production studio. The hallway is empty and still; they’re the only inhabitants. Currently, Baekhyun is on set completing a take. Chanyeol asked Changmin to change places with him while he went to the bathroom.

“Yes?” Chanyeol makes sure his posture is straight. They’re both Alphas and by societal standards he outranks him, but on an animalistic criterion, Changmin is leagues above him. When Chanyeol is stripped of his social standings, he has nothing. His survival is directly related to the people his family controls and their opinions of them, while Changmin, experiencing a similar need to uphold a certain status, could survive outside of their corrupted world of politics and governmental affairs.

“I understand I told you we have to protect Baekhyun as much as possible, but there are certain rules handed down that must be followed. I understand you’re an underling who will have that same amount of power someday, but that day isn’t today. Please, follow the rules.” Changmin’s tone softens with his last command, and he turns to enter the room Baekhyun is recording in, his dress shoes clacking against the linoleum.

Chanyeol is still as he processes what just happened. The only thing that made sense is Changmin is upset with him correcting the producer’s usage of _Queen_ over Baekhyun’s name—but why would he reprimand him for that? Is it a rule that Baekhyun must be called that? The only person who could out rank him and could give Changmin orders was Baekhyun’s husband, but he has nothing to gain from Baekhyun being called that—at least, Chanyeol couldn’t think of a plausible reason. If he thinks back to his parents, he knows his mother, the _Queen_ of the Park Kingdom, has less control and functions more as a paperweight to his father’s regime than a partner of equal standing. The entire ideology behind it was sexist, but he hates his mother too much to care about her feelings on the matter.

That has to be the reason.

* * *

It’s the middle of the night. Only the night guards are out making their rounds. Ideally, having to navigate security would be disparaging, but because of Chanyeol’s status as a Crown Prince, they can’t tell him to do anything—the perfect societal climate for him to enact his half-baked plan.

The ceaseless itch in Chanyeol’s limbs have reached a breaking point. It could be a result from being bored most of the time, but Chanyeol is having a hard time sitting still and keeping his thoughts coherent. The idea of just _going out_ has come to him plenty of times, but if he’s caught alone, he and the Chae Kingdom will receive push back from the public since the arrangement will seem less credible. The idea of asking Baekhyun to go out with him was his next thought, but after he visited Baekhyun a few nights ago and Chungha told him he wasn’t there, he felt weird about going back to him. He’s not sure what the other man is doing in his free time, but he doesn’t want to interrupt it. That led him to his current idea: go to a courtyard and transform into his beast state. He doubts the night guards would stop him from leaving the palace at two in the morning, but frankly, he’s terrified at the idea of him being out in the woods by himself, especially after dark. He’s a pure breed city boy, part wolf or not.

_I wonder if Baekhyun is afraid of the woods._ Chanyeol thinks to himself as he makes his way down the traditional style hallway, his slides shuffling against the wood floors.

Chanyeol looks to his left and sees other smaller buildings surrounding the offset of the main house he and Baekhyun reside in. He deduces this is probably where people like Chungha stay. A part of him is offended at the lack of regard since he stays with the help, but at the same time it’s not a completely horrible idea since it’s unanticipated. If the palace was attacked, the main house would probably be the target.

The midspring air is crisp and the breeze it provides is perfect for Chanyeol’s attire of a hoodie and sweats. It’s scenic as the light from the moon, the smaller lamps lining the outer side of the hallway and the front of the other houses creates a serene atmosphere, a stalk difference to the mansion he lives in where everything is modernized in design. He takes in the how one of the houses has its lights on.

Perhaps working, or just staying up for a variety of reasons while having a harsh work schedule, is normal for common folk. He has had his fair share of sleepless nights, but it was from being so overworked from the various activities he has to participate in, he didn’t want the next day to come any faster. Chanyeol’s face relaxes at that thought. Despite being separated by class, they might have something in common. And that something in common might help him relate to Baekhyun further. He has come to the conclusion that the best way to reach Baekhyun is to understand him outside of his role as one of the rulers of the Chae and as an individual—more so his previous life, something Chanyeol couldn’t touch because he doesn’t have a concept of such a existence.

With that thought, Chanyeol finds the answer to his own question: Baekhyun isn’t scared of the woodlands. Unlike himself, Baekhyun and Changmin are accustomed to that side of reality. Chanyeol was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and kept away from the rougher side of survival. To make the most out of this experience and make a friend out of Baekhyun, he couldn’t be afraid. He has to find his inner wolf.

He reaches the end of the house that connects to main building of the palace. He nods to the guards stationed there; actual members of the military clad in their dark green uniform unlike the Betas stationed closer to where he and Baekhyun stay, adorned in black suits. He ignores their pointed looks and opts to stare forward. There’s a long stretch between this house and the next, in-between it being what he was looking for: The courtyard. He’s only seen it a couple of times before, the day he moved in then the days he had a schedule with Baekhyun. It’s even more beautiful at night. There are lamps scattered throughout and they hang in-between the trees and the foliage. There’s also a perfect view of the half-moon through the brush of the trees.

This courtyard is considerably smaller than the one at the main house, one he only seen one other time, but he didn’t have the patience to look for it. It’s a mini wooded area, the next best thing to the forestation outside of the palace and what Chanyeol needed to get accustomed to nature.

Chanyeol steps from the ledge to the stone steps and walks onto the grass, the blades wet and kissing the tops and sides of his feet. He then reaches a stand still. The guards can still see him. How is he going to _strip_ so he doesn’t ruin his clothes and not be seen? He turns around sheepishly, and as expected, the guards are watching him in mild curiosity and partial disgust. His face warms in embarrassment. Perhaps, the main courtyard, the one closer to the main palace would be a better bet, but he’s already feeling out of place being here and couldn’t fathom trying to navigate the several hallways it takes to reach the main branch of the compound.

“…And everything went smoothly? I can tell the King?” There’s a voice Chanyeol doesn’t recognize. He turns around and coming from the other end of the hallway is Baekhyun, a servant in a white button up and black slacks, and Changmin in an all-black suit.

Baekhyun nods. He’s wearing a dark blue dress shirt and black slacks. Bags sit under his eyes, “I got them to accept the deal.”

“Excellent—”

“Go on ahead, Changmin can walk me to my room. Tell Chungha to run me a bath.”

“Of course.” The servant bows.

Baekhyun sighs wistfully then raises his head and stares at Chanyeol, eyes wide in surprise. He whispers, “C-Chanyeol?”

Changmin sends Chanyeol a knowing look, one that told he knew he was there the entire time. His face is blank, but he sends Chanyeol a soft smile, a different Changmin he met the day Baekhyun recorded that variety appearance but the same one he was encountered his first day at the palace.

The servant lightly jogs forward, the military guards bowing to him. Baekhyun puts his hands into his pockets of his slacks.

“I was taking a walk,” Chanyeol relays smoothly, “I didn’t think I’ll run into you here.”

Baekhyun’s face falls and he nods, “I had a meeting.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Chanyeol steps back onto the wooden floor of the hallway and turns towards the military guards, “Let me—”

“It was nice seeing you.”

Chanyeol pauses and his face warms, his heart accelerating. He turns towards Baekhyun, “L-likewise.”

Chanyeol isn’t sure why those few little words excited him yet calmed the itch in his veins. He felt sedated, but simultaneously wanted more.

oOo

_“How’s your service going?”_

Chanyeol lies on his back on his king size bed. It’s a Saturday night and as always, there isn’t anything for him to do. His cellphone rests to his left, face up. It’s on speaker phone. He’s talking to his girlfriend, Sooyoung.

“Fantastic,” Chanyeol jeers, “I’m having so much fun and learning so many new things.”

_“Sounds like summer camp.”_

“Except I didn’t make any friends and have an awkward sexual experience.”

_“You better not!”_

Chanyeol rolls onto his stomach and pillows his head in the abundant folds of his white hoodie. He’s laying diagonal on the bed, his feet hanging from the edge. He stares at his closet comprising of hoodies, jeans, t-shirts, and his suit for “work.” It’s considerably emptier compared to the one he has at home, but he figured he’ll bring what he needed for a couple of months then grab more, but the way things are going, he’s going to live in his hoodies.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Chanyeol’s voice softens.

_“I want to visit, but my schedule…”_

“One of us has to work,” Chanyeol sighs.

_“Speaking of work, how’s Baekhyun? Is he as cute in person as he is on television?”_

“Cuter.”

Cute didn’t begin to define what Baekhyun is. He’s ethereal in appearance and his mannerisms are charming. And he misses it, much more than he is willing to admit. So far, he’s spent more time with himself than with Baekhyun, but the latter somehow imbedded himself so deeply within Chanyeol. The restlessness from before is worse. Often, he can’t decide what to do because there’s nothing he wants to do besides see Baekhyun.

_“I’m going to visit just to meet him. You…you can go fuck yourself,”_ Sooyoung teases.

“Good luck. He’s incredibly busy.”

Baekhyun’s schedule was one of the things that shocked him. It makes sense that since his Alpha is away and he’s the sole ruler of the district Baekhyun will have to take on his daily duties, but based on what he has learned about the King, he doesn’t give Baekhyun a lot of power or agency. Before he started his service, Baekhyun appeared on television a lot to strengthen the Chae’s image of being friendly and down-to-earth, but even that can’t eat up all of his time. It makes him wonder what Baekhyun does during the day, and if Baekhyun isn’t allowed to administer any type of control, then who’s running the kingdom?

_“Fortunately for me, I have tons of luck—”_

Sooyoung cuts herself off and there are murmurs on the other side of the phone. Chanyeol closes his eyes, not a lick tired.

_“Baby, I have to go.”_

“What?” Chanyeol frowns, opening his eyes. He anticipated talking to her for at least another couple of hours until he’s ready to attempt sleep.

_“My maid just reminded me of a schedule I have early in the morning—I’m shooting a commercial, so I have to look good. I need to go to sleep.”_

“Work is work,” Chanyeol sighs, making sure he sounds as dejected as possible. He doesn’t blame Sooyoung for having to go since that’s just how things are, but he’s bored and needy.

_“I love you. I call you later. Bye-bye.”_

“Love you too.” Chanyeol rolls onto his stomach and watches as the call ends, his screen darkening from the lack of use.

* * *

Chanyeol is in his living room watching a rerun of a variety show he appeared on once. During his time there, he did what he had to do to seem likeable and put the experience behind him. He had the crazy idea after catching an episode of the show one day to watch his episode. And him watching his episode grew into him watching _every_ episode. Similar to Baekhyun’s grimace when he saw himself on television, Chanyeol hated watching himself back. He could feel the script in the delivery of his words. Every smile looked as calculated as it was, and he didn’t understand how other people couldn’t see how fake he was being, how he was forcing himself to be something he’s not.

There’s a knock at the door. Chanyeol sits up, throwing the blanket that rested on top of him off and onto the floor. He stands, stretching and his joints popping in place as a result, and makes his way to the front door. He opens it and before him is Baekhyun in a green silk pajama set, a pair of round framed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, and his hair is wet, his bangs sitting on top of his eyebrows.

Chanyeol’s lips part, “Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun is sheepish and chuckles to himself, looking away, “You said I could come and talk to you whenever I needed, and I thought…” He trails off. His eyes harden in finality. He makes eye contact, “I wanted to see you.” He pulls on his fingers as his forearms rest on his belly, his hands on his upper thighs. He chews on his bottom lip. He’s puppy like: his eyes large and his pout prominent.

Seeing Baekhyun is a relief to Chanyeol. It feels like he took a deep breath for the first time, and his muscles relax, the tension ebbing away with each second. He moves to the side, letting Baekhyun in. He closes the door behind him.

“I was just in the living room watching T.V.”

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting something?”  
  


“You couldn’t.”

Chanyeol picks the white blanket from the floor, haphazardly folding it and placing it on the arm of the dark blue couch, suddenly more aware of the state of his suite.

Baekhyun sits on the couch, the screen reflecting from his round frame glasses. He turns to Chanyeol, licking his lips, “How are you?”

“Bored.”

“I can imagine.” Baekhyun looks at the television again before returning his gaze to Chanyeol, “I want to be friends.”

Chanyeol’s heart rate accelerates and his face warms. That nagging feeling he’s been burdened with since he met Baekhyun strengthens, the sensation graduating into something similar to a tugging. If it could speak it would shout “Baekhyun!”

Chanyeol puts his hands into the pockets of his grey sweats, “Sure!”

Baekhyun smiles, one that reaches his eyes, and the feeling from before amplifies tenfold, nearly suffocating Chanyeol in the process. His wolf is barking in elation and in need. “ _There’s more—”_ that’s all he could make out. He’s not sure what he’s feeling or why he’s feeling this way. If he had to take a guess, his wolf imprinted on Baekhyun in some shape or form, but even that felt too shallow.

“I’ve been thinking about that night when we talked.”

Chanyeol nods and sits next to Baekhyun on the couch. Their legs touch and a rush of electricity shoots from the contact point up Chanyeol’s spine. 

“It was a pinnacle point for me. You made me want to try being more open, so I made the decision that I’m going to trust you.”

Chanyeol’s face relaxes, “Oh,” he smiles, “I want to trust you too.”

“And frankly, if I want to be honest,” Baekhyun looks at his fingers between his legs, his gaze soft, “You make me feel something. Ever since the first day I met you, I’ve felt drawn to you.” Baekhyun makes eye contact with Chanyeol, smiling lightly, “Maybe, it’s fate that you and I are friends.”

“Me too!” Chanyeol says too loudly, Baekhyun’s eyes widening in shock, leaning away from Chanyeol due to the outburst. “I mean, I’ve felt drawn to you too.”

“Have you heard of platonic soulmates?”

“Yeah.” Chanyeol clears his throat.

“Maybe,” Baekhyun stares forward at the television, “that’s what this is.”

“I know with wolves there are _mates_ which is another type of soulmate, but I never thought it could be platonic too,” Chanyeol supplies, his face warming in embarrassment on how they found themselves on this topic. However, with that being said, are Baekhyun and himself soulmates? Would he feel so out of tune with himself whenever he’s not around Baekhyun if that was the case?

“Hm.”

Chanyeol looks over at Baekhyun and he’s frowning, zoned out.

“Did I say something…?”

Baekhyun snaps out of his reverie, his cheeks red, “Ah—no. I was just thinking.”

“About?” Chanyeol later supplies, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Baekhyun’s lips flatten into a line, “I was…thinking about my husband is all. I grew up thinking I’ll find my soulmate and marry them.” Baekhyun turns to Chanyeol, “I actually told the people in my village whenever they said I’ll have a ton of suitors when I grew up that I will only marry if I find my mate.” Baekhyun looks away, staring at the television, “Funny how everything worked out.”

“You can still find them.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Your husband is a cheater.”  
  


“Doesn’t mean I am.”

“You have me?”

Baekhyun returns Chanyeol’s gaze, smiling, “For life?”

“Life?” Something about Baekhyun’s words excited Chanyeol. At first, he wanted to make a friend out of Baekhyun, so he’ll have someone while he finished his military service for the next 18 months. He figured, thereafter, they’ll stay on good terms but grow apart over time—something he was okay with. However, the idea of Baekhyun being in his life forever feels right. A gear moving in tandem to another as if something locked into place.

“If I’m not coming on too strong,” Baekhyun laughs it off but Chanyeol can hear the seriousness in his tone.

“I’ll like that.”

Baekhyun smiles, one that lights up his entire face and makes his eyes sparkle.

“Since we’re on the topic, I want to ask you something.”

Baekhyun sits forward, his hands between his knees.

“I know you’re busy, but I’m going crazy sitting in my room alone and aimlessly walking through the halls—which it’s so easy to get lost in and I hate having to ask the guards to walk me back to my room—are you willing to go out with me?” Baekhyun’s face falls and Chanyeol sputters, “Since, you know, me being seen alone could be disastrous to our reputations—”

“I don’t know if I can,” Baekhyun replies silently.

“Why? Is there a rule or something?”

“No one ever told me I couldn’t, but the way Changmin makes it sound, it dangerous for me to go out alone. There are times that I want to and be like all the other guys my age who go out with their friends, but I guess there are a lot of people who don’t agree with me.”

“Oh.”

“I want to! Maybe, since you’re my bodyguard, technically, it’ll be okay. Changmin would probably have to go with though.”

“Do you want him to?” The idea of Changmin coming with creates a pang in his chest. He has nothing against Changmin, but he would like to spend time with Baekhyun by himself. Changmin makes him nervous, so he doubts the outing would be as fruitful as it could be with him tagging along.  
  


“Want him to what?”

“Go with us?”

“Not…really.” Baekhyun flattens his lips and picks at his fingers, “I suppose—I’ve had the urge to do something daring lately.”

Chanyeol breathes a small sigh of relief at Baekhyun’s response.

“You mean, you want to sneak out?”

Baekhyun turns toward Chanyeol, “Potentially.”

oOo

Chanyeol takes a sip of his coffee, iced Americano. His lips smack at the taste; the bitterness of the coffee beans lingers and hums on his tongue. The coffeeshop is quiet and comfortable with only a few patrons sitting away from them. The easy-going pop music is welcomed as it creates an ambience Chanyeol was craving. It feels full and contained. The smell of sugar and coffee beans is relaxing and pairs well with the late-day sun beaming through the large store front window. They sit towards the back adjacent to the checkout counter.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Baekhyun sits across from him wearing a black cap and black face mask. Only his eyes and the bridge of his nose are visible. His hot chocolate is untouched in front of him, the whipped cream melting and dripping against the outer side of the glass. His eyes bleed worry, an antithesis to the confident and outspoken Baekhyun Chanyeol got to know.

“I do this all the time with Sooyoung. As long you’re somewhere where there aren’t a lot of young people hanging around, you won’t get caught and if you do, it’s by older people and they won’t tell anyone else.”

Baekhyun deflates, “But I’m not just your girlfriend,” He stammers, his cheeks tinted pink, “I’m much more than that.”

“There are less stakes since we’re hanging out just as friends. It’s like hanging out with your boss after work,” Chanyeol lifts his iced coffee, “Getting drinks together.”

Baekhyun quiets at that and doesn’t make eye contact with Chanyeol, opting to look at the table in front of them. Chanyeol knew sneaking Baekhyun out was a risk, something Baekhyun told him he wanted to do more of. As their friendship formed, he became more aware of how much his duty to his kingdom and marriage eats up his free time. He’s only three months into his military service and being sequestered most of the time is making him stir crazy. He couldn’t imagine doing this for years while constantly being supervised.

“Someone seeing us together won’t create as much media attention as being seen with a significant other, but I’m the sole person running the kingdom since my Alpha is gone. It’ll look like I’m not taking my position seriously—”

“I’m still your bodyguard, remember—”

“In name only.” Baekhyun deadpans.

Chanyeol sighs at that.

“You’re running the kingdom by yourself, but you deserve to have some free time. Anyone who gets upset with you just has malicious intentions. Besides, if you’re worried about someone trying to take advantage of you or something…I’ll protect you. I know I’m not skilled or in touch with my Alpha instincts, but I’ll do what I can. I promised Changmin. Also, someone seeing us together might make this entire thing look more believable.”

Baekhyun purses his lips then states softly, “If we get in trouble for this, I’m blaming everything on you.”

“It was my idea,” Chanyeol states delicately while playing with the straw in his ice coffee by pushing it against the slush of the blended ice cubes against the syrup that wasn’t mixed properly at the bottom of the glass.

“And I went along with it.” Baekhyun lowers his mask and finally takes a sip of his hot chocolate. “So, we are both going to jail.”

The mirth present in Baekhyun’s tone eases Chanyeol’s anxiety about Baekhyun not enjoying himself or the impromptu outing. He wanted to know Baekhyun was enjoying his company as much as he enjoyed his. In the few months they’ve known each other, the more he was around Baekhyun the better he felt. That pull that made him tethered to Baekhyun dissipated, at least in Baekhyun’s company. Being friends with Baekhyun was comfortable—a type of comfort he didn’t know he could find in another person. He isn’t sure how he lived his life and felt somewhat content about it before he met him.

“My girlfriend wants to visit,” Chanyeol states nonchalantly, changing the subject.

“Oh?” Baekhyun perks up.

“I told her my vacation is coming up so there isn’t much of a point.”

“I kind of want to meet her. She seems nice.”

“Maybe after.”

Baekhyun smiles, “I’ll like that.”

oOo

“Changmin, you don’t have to come,” Chanyeol stands in the open field in front of a wooded area behind the estate. Baekhyun is currently further off, arms wide twirling around in circle while claiming he’s a character from a film.

Today, Chanyeol decided to leave the walls of his room, with permission, as the restlessness that has lingered in his limbs for the last few months has worsened. At first, just being around Baekhyun was enough to alleviate this constant feeling to do something, but the last couple weeks he finds himself unable to sleep or sit still, even if he and Baekhyun spent time together. He came to the conclusion that his wolf is probably unsatisfied as he hasn’t properly transformed since he started his military service. That’s when he came up with the idea to visit the stretch of land on the base of the mountain.

As he thought, the air is clean like taking a sip of water after chewing a piece of gum or brushing one’s teeth. It’s crisp and clear, his inner beast howling to be released so he may experience it on a deeper level.

“It’s protocol,” Changmin recites in monotone, his eyes never leaving Baekhyun’s form that is now sitting in a patch of tall grass.

The view of Baekhyun in the grass, his black t-shirt and dark hair contrasting against the array of greens of the foliage and the weeds, is poignant. He’s a man who literally has the success of his kingdom, one that was forced upon him, on his shoulders is playing in a field like a child. He’s just like everyone else—who he used to be and probably would still be if he wasn’t born an Omega and a male.

Baekhyun turns to face him, smiling, one that reaches his eyes, “It’s so nice out here. Changmin, why didn’t you let me do this earlier?”

“It’s dangerous, especially now,” Changmin reports back curtly.

Chanyeol watches Changmin as the wind pulls a few strands from his updo. For the last couple of weeks, Changmin has been on edge.

“Why is it dangerous? We’re still by the estate. Doesn’t this land technically belong to Baekhyun and—”

“It’s best if you don’t ask questions that don’t affect you.” Changmin’s eyes darken, his voice stern and his poise straight.

Chanyeol is still at Changmin’s sudden assertion of dominance.

“Chanyeol…Changmin, come out and join me,” Baekhyun laughs, “The breeze is nice.”

Chanyeol walks forward toward Baekhyun. He looks back and Changmin is rooted to his spot, observing the tree-line. Chanyeol turns to Baekhyun and makes his way through the tall grass. Chanyeol reaches Baekhyun’s side and Baekhyun looks behind him.

“No Changmin?”

“He said he’s following protocol or something.”

Baekhyun mutters to himself, “He’s always like this when it’s close.”

Chanyeol leans down, “Huh?”

“I said Changmin is being a hard ass as usual.” Baekhyun stands, stretching.

Chanyeol notices Baekhyun’s pecs through the t-shirt. He never saw him as the muscle type who worked out—when would he even have time to work out—but he never saw himself as the person to randomly notice this either, especially from a man.

Baekhyun continues, “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

* * *

The river is a mix of violets, blues, and oranges at dusk. They stand on the sidewalk by the bank on the side that is closed off and used by elites. Chanyeol has taken Sooyoung here plenty of times, and each time the view is just as pretty.

Chanyeol crosses his arms, his palms rubbing his skin as a chill wracks through him. Today is mild, but it’s colder by the river. Baekhyun is beside him, facing the river holding a water bottle.

“Did you hear about the party,” Baekhyun begins. He takes a swig of his water bottle then turns towards Chanyeol.

Chanyeol drops his arms and places his hands into his sweatpants pockets, “No. What party?”

Baekhyun gasps. “I’m surprised you never been. Our kingdom throws a party for all the leaders to get together and” he performs air quotes, “talk about politics. Really, it’s just an excuse to get high and drunk, but they do that anyway. My husband says it’s to help improve relations with the surrounding powers.”

“My parents wouldn’t let me go to anything like that.”

“Why? I figured it would be good to know who you’ll have to work with.”  
  


“You would think, but they prioritize what the people think of us more than what the other powers think. I was probably busy preparing a shoot or exhausted from one.”

They begin to walk again, Baekhyun’s shoulder bumping into Chanyeol’s upper arm periodically.

“Well, you’re not missing anything unless you’re into those type of parties, which if you are, there’s nothing new except everyone is in one place doing it.”

Chanyeol turns towards Baekhyun, the setting sun highlighting Baekhyun’s bone structure and the softer browns of his hair. He knows Baekhyun isn’t innocent, but he appears childlike in this moment due to his permanent pout and how he’s drowning in his hoodie—one he wanted to borrow because he started to get cold in his long sleeve t-shirt. He wants to protect Baekhyun and shield him from the horrors known as the inner circle of government officials. The pull from before is stronger, his wolf even more unsettled. Ever since they transformed in the field a couple of weeks back, his wolf seemed better—a bit more ravenous when Baekhyun wasn’t around, which scared him, but now it’s knocking on the door, asking to be let out. To do what, he’s not sure, but something about Baekhyun drives it crazy, even in Baekhyun’s presence. It’s so up and down he isn’t sure what he should do, but what his instincts are telling him to do is to stay by Baekhyun’s side. No matter how much he wishes he could hide beneath the covers and wish this feeling away, a piece of him is telling him to embrace it.

“I’m not into stuff like that,” Chanyeol taps the side of his head with a forefinger, his hair only a couple of inches due to his last trim, “I don’t want to lose my mind.” He drops his hand, “I feel once you lose control of yourself like that, you’re more likely to try to get your way by any means necessary and I don’t want to turn into someone like that.”

“That makes sense. I’ve thought about it, truthfully, to see if it’ll help numb some of the things I’m going through, but that’s never really been my scene. And I’m afraid I’ll end up like my husband: depraved and lacking empathy.”

Chanyeol stops his stride. Baekhyun continues for a few steps then turns around to face Chanyeol. Chanyeol closes his fist, his knuckles white, and stares at his feet. He attempts to keep his breath even. His wolf didn’t like that information. He didn’t like it either. Baekhyun is too likable and too much of a good person to have to go through something like that, whatever it may be. His wolf is threatening to show itself. He didn’t want to make a scene. Neither is his real persona nor his fake one rough and demanding. Rumors aren’t just spread from common folk. He needs to keep his head level here.

“Chanyeol?” At Chanyeol’s silence, Baekhyun walks up to him and touches his forearm. With no response, he grabs it, his skin hot against his.

Baekhyun’s touch helped Chanyeol calm down, not enough to where he returned to his previous deposition, but where he wasn’t going to cause a ruckus. His body relaxes, the tension waning in waves and his wolf whimpering in satisfaction. He lifts his head and Baekhyun is staring at him.

“Are you okay?” Baekhyun whispers. He attempts to give his water bottle to him.

Chanyeol whispers, “I’m fine,” lightly slapping the water bottle away. He isn’t fine. “I just don’t like that you have to go through stuff like that and it shocked me is all.” He’s scared.

Baekhyun’s eyes bleed concern and he frowns. He drops the hand offering the water and moves to stand beside him. He smiles softly, “I’m okay.”

Everything in Chanyeol told him not to believe Baekhyun. Just like him, he isn’t okay.

* * *

“Chanyeol?” Sehun exclaims. The lankly man wears a red patterned button up and dark blue slacks, the look completed with a pair of brown dress shoes probably designer from one of his many collaborations.

Chanyeol jumps and tries to hide his grimace. He’s on duty. He’s pretty sure everyone is too high and drunk by now, having their own conversations in the main courtyard to care, but he didn’t want to risk it. His father would yell him, perhaps even beat him if they got negative press because of him.

Sehun’s cheeks are red, probably drunk off his ass, “Chanyeol, that’s you being official in this black suit—you’re _Chanyeol—”_

“Yes, it’s me!” Chanyeol whispers harshly. He turns to Sehun, his gaze leaving Baekhyun who’s in a conversation with the Crown Prince from the Lee district and a few other officials. They stand by one of the many tables with food underneath the mood outdoor lighting hanging on the tree branches above them.

“Wow,” Sehun sighs dramatically. “I barely recognized you now that you’re bald. If it wasn’t for your ears anyway”

Chanyeol has the urge to rub the top of his head but pulls on his elfish ears instead. He’ll admit not having hair has been an experience, but he doesn’t want to think about how he lost his boyish looks and now looks more like a monk or some gangster.

“I’m working.”

“At a party?”

“I’m a bodyguard, remember?”

“For Baekhyun, was it? Where is he?”

Chanyeol deadpans and Sehun snickers.

“Where’s the goofy guy I used to know. You’re all serious.”

Chanyeol looks over Sehun’s shoulder and Baekhyun is no longer standing by the Lees next to the hors d’oeuvre table. He sighs in exhaustion then pushes past Sehun, “I need to find Baekhyun.”

“Or?”

“Or I can get in trouble?”

“You’re not even a real bodyguard. Why are you talking your job so seriously, at a party no less? One of his actual bodyguards is probably watching out for him.” Sehun takes a sip of whatever he had in his wine glass then gives it to Chanyeol. “Live a little. It’s nothing but bullshit once you take the throne.”

Sehun has a point, but because he’s right doesn’t mean he had to listen to him. Once he succeeds his father there will be nothing but bullshit since all the other powers abuse the authority they have on people. He wants to rule the correct way and with that there will be trials and tribulations. In order to achieve such a feat, he needs to take any and every opportunity seriously, including this one.

Chanyeol hands the wine glass back to Sehun, “Sehun, you’re one of my closest friends, but because I have the opportunity to do something doesn’t mean I should. I’m going to look for Baekhyun.”

* * *

Baekhyun sighs dramatically, “Thank you for saving me. I don’t know what I would have done if I was offered another hit or a glass of whatever they were serving.”

Chanyeol and Baekhyun are walking down one of the many hallways away from the main courtyard. Chanyeol knows it isn’t the best idea to leave early, especially since it’s technically Baekhyun’s party, but he doesn’t like the atmosphere nor how things are deteriorating. When he happened to find Baekhyun again, he was standing under the large Oak tree in the center of the courtyard, pulling at fingers and looking around desperately. After spending time with him, Chanyeol has learned some of his mannerisms and that one told that Baekhyun was uncomfortable and wanted to be saved from the situation. Unlike the bubbly extroverted face he puts on, he learned that the real Baekhyun tends to be quiet and borderline shy.

“I was dying to leave too. It’s not really my scene and my friends kept making fun of me for being bald.”

“Who?” Baekhyun looks over, his arms cross behind him, his face light.

“One of them was Sehun.”

“Ah, that name sounds familiar.” Baekhyun presses his lips together and hums, his head cocking to the side.

“He remembers you.”

“Oh?”

“Everyone does. It seems people only talk to me to see if they can see you.”

Baekhyun is quiet at that, his face falling. He hums again, his eyebrow twitching.

Now that they are alone and Chanyeol isn’t overwhelmed with the various smells of food, drugs, and partygoers, he finds that Baekhyun smells different. He can’t exactly describe it since his sense of smell isn’t the best. It’s something he smells off and on but has been growing in intensity for the last couple of weeks. It makes his wolf more restless than usual, but it’s always restless and seems to be set off by whatever Baekhyun does.

“Your cologne—I really like it,” Chanyeol blurts out. Is it weird to essentially say he liked how a man smelled? One he only knew a few months, the same man he has only been friends with for a couple of those months, and one he works for? Probably—certainly it’s okay.

Baekhyun turns to Chanyeol in confusion, his eyebrows flatting and his mouth ajar, suddenly it relaxes, and he moves his gaze to the wall to his left. Despite the limited lighting, Baekhyun’s face is redder than before, and he hunches his shoulders.

“Ah,” Chanyeol’s eyes are wide, “Did I say something wrong—”

Baekhyun stops his stride. Chanyeol turns around. They’re in front of one of the many sub-courtyards, one that looks a lot like the one he ran into Baekhyun a couple of months prior. There are bugs chirping and the moon hangs high in the sky as it hides behind the long arching branches of the trees. Chanyeol can see fireflies drifting about, other the moon and the lamps that are positioned on the walls of the hallway, are their light source. If it wasn’t for Baekhyun’s sudden withdrawn behavior, it would have been a perfect night to roam around the estate, perhaps around the courtyard and sit below one of the many trees.

Baekhyun pulls on his fingers, then sticks one in his mouth, biting the side of it. He meets Chanyeol’s gaze and his face red in probable embarrassment. Baekhyun wears a look he hasn’t seen on him before. He’s equal parts scared and serious. His hand drops from his mouth.

“Baek—”

“I have a confession to make. I can’t ignore this anymore. It hurts too much—”

Chanyeol’s eyebrows twitch and he closes his mouth. The sound of chirping drills into his head but his gaze is focused on Baekhyun’s form. He’s more aware of the creases in his dress shirt, probably borne from bending over and walking around at the party. The folds of his sleeves where the cuffs are pulled up to his forearms. The stray strands of his updo, revealing his face and making him appear mature and the man that he is versus the boyish _King_ everyone knows him as.

Chanyeol is still, his heart rate speeding up.

Baekhyun’s gaze is to his feet and his face reddens. He opens his mouth and closes it. He holds a fist to his mouth and purses his lips.

“Baek—”

“I like you.” Baekhyun’s eyes are wide and he breathes heavily. 

Chanyeol’s face falls, “I like you too, Baekhyun. You’re one of my closest friends. I—”

“Not…not like that.”

Chanyeol stares as Baekhyun rubs his upper arms and focuses on nothing in particular. He swallows and his gaze flickers to Chanyeol’s before quickly looking away. His face is still red.

Chanyeol’s wolf is unsettled, but not in a negative way—it’s actually excited, _pleased._ He starts to breathe heavily as the implications of Baekhyun’s words make themselves clear. He isn’t sure how he should react or how to feel. How he feels about the sudden declaration or why he didn’t necessarily hate it. The thought that Baekhyun holds him so dear, perhaps before anyone else makes him happy.

“You’re married, and I have a girlfriend—”

Baekhyun winces, “I know” he says a little too loudly. “I know.” He pauses, “I never expected anything from you or from my feelings, but I can’t bear this burden anymore. It’s hard.”

“Hard?”

Baekhyun reaches Chanyeol’s gaze, “It’s hard to be around you and hear you talk about your girlfriend or how I’m married or how I need to carry the King’s offspring because of some damn prophecy my husband heard when he was probably coked up and blackout drunk. I’ve…never wanted any of those things with him, but I found myself realizing I wouldn’t mind if I had this duty with someone else. This feeling I haven’t been able to articulate started to make sense.” He closes his eyes, tired. He exhales, “I don’t expect you to return my feelings or turn me down because I already know. It’s wrong and it’s weird. And to top it all off, you don’t go for men—but when you tell me I smell nice, something I’ve been told is wrong and disgusting—I can’t hold in it anymore.”

“Who told you you smell bad?” Chanyeol’s voice is soft. He wanted to comfort Baekhyun. Pull him into his arms or at least that’s what his instincts told him to do.

“Everyone who’s been around me during…” Baekhyun shies away, he remakes eye contact and whispers, “My heat.”

Chanyeol didn’t know a lot about heats other than it was the prime time to reproduce and having sex while a woman is in heat was a guarantee that she’ll become pregnant. With men, especially omegas, he isn’t sure how that worked, but considering Baekhyun never bore a child his heats weren’t as potent.

“You seem fine to me.” When his girlfriend went into heat that one time she was off her suppressants, she was extremely desperate and for the lack of a better term horny. He couldn’t see her while she went through that as neither are ready for a child nor would it look good on them for them to have a child before they are married, even though it was obvious they're having premarital sex.

“Because it hasn’t officially started yet. When it does my husband will return, attempt to breed me then leave to whore himself off to seal mergers and group policies with other powers further west.”

Chanyeol’s mouth is ajar at the sudden dump of information. His wolf didn’t like it as it detested most of Baekhyun’s sporadic confessions about how warped his marriage is. If it could be called that. A business transaction is more fitting, one that Baekhyun doesn’t benefit from other than a life of luxury he has to spend alone.

“Baek—”

“I’m sorry for springing this on you, and I hope we can resume our friendship the way it was before like tonight never happened. I just couldn’t—thank you for taking me away from that party.” Baekhyun’s eyes narrow and he frowns, “It was stifling and to have so many people tell me they never “done” something like me…” He closes his eyes and blinks as if it ridded him of those thoughts and memories.

Baekhyun moves to walk past him. He stops and turns to Chanyeol when they're side by side, “Your room should be straight ahead. Good night.” He shuffles past until Chanyeol’s hand grabs his forearm, his back now facing the courtyard.

Chanyeol doesn’t know what he’s doing or why he’s doing what he’s doing. Baekhyun’s skin is warm to the touch. His chest is tight, and his body is boiling. He can’t return Baekhyun’s feelings. Just like Baekhyun has a duty to his kingdom, so does he. He’s slated to get married and be that “perfect couple” that is a perfect match. He’s excited that he actually gets along with his betrothed, unlike his parents or Baekhyun—but his heart is beating fast and his wolf is thrashing. He couldn’t leave Baekhyun alone because he knew once Baekhyun returned to his room, whatever _this_ is would be over. He isn’t sure if he wants this to be over or why he wants to hold on to it. His grip on Baekhyun’s arm tightens. He doesn’t want him to go. With Baekhyun so close, his scent is stronger—almost as if Baekhyun’s confession made it amplify ten-fold.

“Chanyeol, let me go,” Baekhyun pleads quietly. His free arm grabs Chanyeol’s currently holding him in place.

Chanyeol whips Baekhyun in front of him. Baekhyun’s eyes are wide at the sudden assertion of dominance, something Chanyeol is also unfamiliar with, something that only appears with his ruts which are few and far in-between. Baekhyun blushes under Chanyeol’s strong gaze and looks away.

“Don’t stare at me like that.” Baekhyun huffs. “It’s going to give me the wrong idea. Let me—”

Chanyeol raises the arm currently gripping Baekhyun’s forearm, pulling them closer to the point their chests touch.

Baekhyun’s eyes furrow. His gaze flickers from his lips back to his eyes. “Chanyeol…”

Chanyeol is operating on autopilot. His wolf is banging on the door to be let out. His instincts are fogging his mind, and with each passing second his breath becomes heavier and his body hotter. He didn’t know if he could return Baekhyun’s feelings or if he should. He himself is confused about how he feels. His current attachment to Baekhyun would make a lot of sense if it were under a romantic lens—but whatever it is they can’t. He can’t. His kingdom couldn’t weather that type of blow.

Chanyeol’s lips tingle and he can’t help but observe the curve of Baekhyun’s bottom lip or his cupid’s bow or the beauty mark above his lip. His fingers close around Baekhyun’s arm and he lowers it, now at their sides. Baekhyun doesn’t move away, but of course he wouldn’t. This is what he wants but is this what Chanyeol wants? Is he too tied up with what he _should_ do that he can’t even see what he _wants_ to do, or if this is just what his wolf wants? Is the heat that simmers in his body from the lack of sex or does he genuinely want to have sex with Baekhyun? He angles his head to the side and kisses Baekhyun. His lips are soft to the touch and are just as hot as the rage currently scalding within his core.

Baekhyun pushes him away and moves his head to the side, not enough to break the embrace but enough that they could hold a conversation without their lips touching. “Chanyeol, what are you doing?”

Chanyeol moves Baekhyun’s jaw so the latter could face him again. He kisses Baekhyun again, except Baekhyun doesn’t push him away. With Baekhyun’s free arm, he rests his hand on Chanyeol’s chest and grips his black dress shirt. He relaxes into the kiss, the hand Chanyeol still has seized returning to its unperturbed position. Their lips smack and Chanyeol revels in the softness of Baekhyun’s lips, the small sighs that fall from his mouth, and how his nose rubs the side of his cheek. The kiss is wet, the sound of their mouths rubbing together only to part and meet each other again. Chanyeol lets go of Baekhyun’s forearm and grips Baekhyun’s hips. Arms now free, Baekhyun rests them on top of Chanyeol’s shoulders, caging him there. Chanyeol couldn’t help the moan at the direct taste of Baekhyun’s saliva that sits on the curve of his bottom lip. His wolf is going crazier, both in excitement and in desperation. The kiss becomes messier, their tongues entering the equation. Baekhyun gasps when Chanyeol grips his butt, pulling them closer. Baekhyun is hard, but that’s to be expected since his heat is fast approaching. What surprised Chanyeol was that he’s also hard and with each press of their lips and lick of their tongue the harder and more impatient he becomes.

Baekhyun breaks the kiss and opts to lick the side of Chanyeol’s neck, kissing it then sucking his pulse line. His arousal hangs heavy in the air, the scent he now knows as his heat is stronger than before and invades his nostrils.

Chanyeol moans and presses his knee between Baekhyun’s legs which the latter moans and pushes back to create more friction. He didn’t know what he expected out of this or how far they would go, especially since they're out in the open where anyone could stumble upon them and fuck up everything they threw their feelings aside for. Chanyeol parts, his hands now on Baekhyun’s shoulders. His head hangs low and breathes heavily, eyes wide. His wolf wanted this so desperately, an itch finally being scratched after the offending tingle has taken up his thoughts and his life, but with his divulge to his feral side is clarity.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol gasps, scared. This is wrong. He’s cheating on Sooyoung, but what bothered him more is why did he like it so much.

Baekhyun’s hands grip Chanyeol’s wrists and pulls them closer together, reconnecting their lips. Chanyeol doesn’t fight it. This kiss is slower and not as zealous. Baekhyun parts but remains close enough Chanyeol can feel his breaths on his neck.

Baekhyun breathes heavily, “I want you the same way a lover would.” He presses and grinds his thighs against Chanyeol’s knee, sighing softly. “I don’t know why you kissed me, but I don’t want to spend this night alone, and I’m sure you’re feeling the same way.”

* * *

Chanyeol doesn’t know where he is exactly. Baekhyun pulled him into a nearby room and kissed him again, the touch of his lips sending a pleasurable shiver down his spine. He moaned _the counter_ between the push of their lips. Chanyeol is shocked he found something for Baekhyun to lean up against in the dimly lit room, the only light sources Chanyeol can identify as a microwave and an overhead light above a skin across the room, but he can’t think outside how much his dick aches to dwell on it. Their lips smack and the kiss is wetter than their previous one. Baekhyun reintroduces tongue and moans at the taste of Chanyeol's mouth. Baekhyun tugs at Chanyeol’s belt and unbuttons his pants.

“Here?” Chanyeol gasps between kisses.

Baekhyun hums in confirmation and guides Chanyeol’s hands to pants. “Hurts.”

Chanyeol does as he’s told and undos Baekhyun’s pants and fishes him out of his boxers. Chanyeol hides in the curve of Baekhyun’s neck as Baekhyun pulls him out of his. He sighs in relief and couldn’t be embarrassed that Baekhyun is seeing him this way, let alone touching his dick. Baekhyun strokes it, it reaching full mast.

“I want to suck it, but I need you in me so bad I can barely breathe.”

Chanyeol moans at how frank and filthy Baekhyun’s mouth is, and how he couldn’t agree more. He pushes Baekhyun’s pants down his legs and Baekhyun steps out of them. He jumps up to sit on the counter or the table, Chanyeol isn’t sure and beckons him closer with the his heels of his feet. His thighs snuggle on either side of Chanyeol’s hips. When he grabs his dick, Chanyeol sighs, breathing heavy at how warm his hand is and how it feels right. His wolf didn’t like the submissive role he’s taken as Baekhyun is leading, but he’s aching to fuck so as long as his dick is going somewhere, he couldn’t complain.

Baekhyun rubs the head of Chanyeol’s dick against his opening and Chanyeol can’t help but inhale audibly at how wet and strong the scent of his arousal is. A part of him is confused because men shouldn’t be able to do that as things aren’t supposed to go in there, but he was too horny to question Baekhyun why it was like that. He gasps as the head enters Baekhyun. He bites his lips at the heat and the smooth slide. Baekhyun’s arms rest over Chanyeol’s shoulders and his heels push Chanyeol in further. Chanyeol, sick of being a bystander, grips Baekhyun’s hips and slams home. Baekhyun gasps sharply.

“F-fuck.” Baekhyun kisses Chanyeol again, his ankles pushing his dress pants down his thighs.

Chanyeol knows Baekhyun would probably be tight because if he only has sex whenever his husband is home, a man he hasn’t seen in the five-ish months he’s been here, no way he’s been fucked enough for him to be looser—but nothing prepared him for this. They haven’t even started and Baekhyun is sucking him in and his walls are throbbing, sending shocks from his dick up his spine.

Baekhyun’s heels push against Chanyeol’s bare buttocks, and Chanyeol slides out only to push back in. His thrusts are slow yet powerful. Baekhyun breaks the kiss to sigh into the junction of his jaw and ear, the heat of his breath making Chanyeol's face tingle. The smack of their fucking is loud and invades the current quiet of the room. Chanyeol closes his eyes at the sensations washing over him. He doesn’t know if it’s because he’s doing it without a condom, if he didn’t have sex in a very long time, or if Baekhyun was just that appetizing but he’s biting his lip to keep himself from moaning like a virgin. The tempo picks up as Chanyeol just couldn’t go slow, he needs something fast and intense, a nut that’ll shut his wolf up and knock the breath out of him. Baekhyun leans his forehead against Chanyeol’s and attempts to meet Chanyeol’s quick and shallow thrusts. He pants against Chanyeol’s mouth, soft moans of Chanyeol’s name spoken between them.

Baekhyun moans unabashedly when Chanyeol goes deeper, the shy soft-spoken Baekhyun that confessed his feelings to him gone. He pants against Chanyeol’s face, his breath warming his cheeks.

“Chanyeol—shit.” Baekhyun whispers, his arms moving to grip Chanyeol’s back from under his armpits breaking their embrace. His nails bite into the flesh of his back, it stinging but Chanyeol couldn’t find it in him to tell Baekhyun in stop. If anything, it spurred him to go harder, much to Baekhyun’s glee.

Chanyeol is drunk from Baekhyun’s _hahs_ and _ahs_ on a particularly hard and angled thrust. Baekhyun's walls flutter around his dick, pulling a moan from his throat. Biting his lip couldn’t keep him silent anymore, he gasps in time to their hips colliding and the smacks of Baekhyun’s wetness lubricating the rapid back and forth.

“Baekhyun—you’re so wet,” Chanyeol moans under his breath.

Baekhyun moans are pitchy. In that moment, he wishes he could see the type of faces Baekhyun could make as the sounds that are leaving his mouth are absolutely divine.

Baekhyun whines and he spreads his legs wider so Chanyeol could reach even deeper. Chanyeol moans into Baekhyun's ear, his hair strands rubbing against his cheek. It feels as though they have melted together, and their hips have become some sort of well-oiled machine that just _works._ Baekhyun is tugging Chanyeol just right, the friction delicious is appeasing his wolf, something that wouldn’t shut up since he met Baekhyun.

“Chanyeol—I want to cum.”

“How do you need it?”

“Move your hips up.”

Chanyeol does as he’s told, his grip on Baekhyun’s hips pushing him against him harder than before. Baekhyun’s moans escalate until Chanyeol hears _the_ gasp. One that told him he found the prized spot. Baekhyun tightens in result, shoots of pleasure riding up Chanyeol's spine and his groin spasming, warning him that he doesn’t have much time left before he hits his peak.

“Chanyeol—Chanyeol,” Baekhyun hums in ecstasy, “There, please, it’s there—there.”

Chanyeol can’t help but moan at how wanton Baekhyun sounds and grunts as he abuses that spot that has Baekhyun feverishly rolling his hips and his nails raking down his back.

“I’m close,” Chanyeol forces out. His dick is hot, and the smack of their hips only heightened this sensation. The tight coil in his groin only intensified further and further until he could taste his orgasm in harsh waves, not quite falling over the edge but teasing what is to come if they continue like this.

“Not inside.”

Chanyeol whines because he doesn’t think he’s going to be able to pull out with how Baekhyun is wrapped around him and how he’s body is a paradise he didn’t want to move from.

Baekhyun’s pants become heavier than before, “Chanyeol, I’m going to cum.” His voice rises in pitch.

This spurs Chanyeol to push himself into Baekhyun’s faster. Baekhyun's moans start to bleed together until he cries out and his body spasms. One of his hands leaves Chanyeol's back and finds purchase between them. Wetness, that Chanyeol knows is cum, shoots onto his groin and lower stomach. Baekhyun babbles mixtures of Chanyeol’s name and a string of curses, but what has Chanyeol gasping sharply is Baekhyun’s mumble of _I like you. I like you so much_ as his body calms. He whimpers due to overstimulation from the continuous abuse of that special spot. His soiled hand pushes against Chanyeol's chest, but Chanyeol grips his hips pointedly, the slap of their bodies vociferous. Chanyeol grunts and whines throatily as he explodes inside of Baekhyun, his hands pushing Baekhyun against him. He has never cum this hard in his life, his mouth agape and his eyes rolling back. It feels as if it’s never-ending as wave after wave racks through his body, and Baekhyun milks the rest of his nut out of his dick. Chanyeol slows as the final spurts enter Baekhyun’s body, his lower body shivering with each convulsion.

Their harsh breaths fill the room, Chanyeol in a haze as he recovers from the hottest sex he has had in a while.

Baekhyun exhales, his hand on Chanyeol's chest sliding to shoulder and squeezing it, “I told you…not inside.”

Guilt sets in when Chanyeol realizes what he and Baekhyun done. Even though he couldn’t see, he can feel the wetness on his groin area and the back of Baekhyun's thighs that sticks to his upper flank. How were they going to return without being seen as they both are a post-sex laden mess? How were they supposed to act around each other after this? What is he going to tell Sooyoung, if he should tell her at all?

Baekhyun embraces Chanyeol and wraps his legs around Chanyeol’s waist. He sighs in the curve of Chanyeol’s neck, “What did we just do…”


End file.
